


a balloon flying away

by sweet_peach_tea (orphan_account)



Category: Gattaca (1997)
Genre: A meeting in heaven, Character Reflection, M/M, angst with happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24603319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sweet_peach_tea
Summary: Vincent goes on another journey of exploration, and found something he lost years ago.
Relationships: Vincent Freeman/Jerome Eugene Morrow
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	a balloon flying away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BokChoytheAlpaca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BokChoytheAlpaca/gifts).



Vincent opened his eyes to an unfamiliar world. 

It was bright. Too bright. He squeezed them tightly and wished for a few more minutes of rest.

He was just about to drift off into nothingness once again when panic overtook him, as he realized he had no idea where he was. 

Vincent’s eyes were once again seared with light, but as he slowly pulled himself up, he realized that his hands were full of sand. 

_ The beach.  _

Memories flooded back to him, crashing into his mind’s eye like the waves in front of him.

It had been a long time since he had been to the beach. 

When was the last time he had been outside of the city? Vincent could only faintly recall his last game of Chicken with Anton, 5 years ago by now. 

The year in which he tried to forget everything.

The ocean was huge, and blue, and sparkling. It was beautiful, and it reminded him of how vast and deep space was.

_ Space. _

Vincent’s last memories had been strapping in for another now-common shuttle journey to Asteroid 134340, and then…

_ Nothing.  _

He looked up to the sky, which twinkled beautifully. His eyes still ached a little bit. 

He knew where he was. 

There was a set of footsteps pressed into the sand. Vincent looked at them curiously. They were about the same size as his own shoes. 

Well, I have nowhere else to go, so I might as well follow them. 

As he walked amongst the pale white sand, his thoughts followed him. 

He knew he had finally succumbed to his weak heart. He’d always expected it to happen one day, so it was no surprise that he had finally died. 

What was surprising, however, was the fact that he was somewhere he could still walk and see and think and breathe. 

_ Is this heaven? Or is this hell? _

He didn’t know. It seemed too beautiful to be hell, but if this was heaven, Vincent wasn’t sure he wanted to be here. 

_ Especially if I can’t see him.  _

The footsteps seemed to reach on and on, but in the distance, Vincent could faintly pick out a small structure. He couldn’t quite see what it was yet, but it was better than walking forever in the eternal. 

He ran, his journey made longer by his shoes sinking into the sand and his heart pumping desperately. 

As he came closer, he noticed that it was a bus stop at the end of a long road that seemed to go into the whiteness again. There was also a man sitting at the bus stop, a figure that seemed like himself. The man was looking away, into the distance of nothingness.

“Excuse me?” He called out to the stranger. “What’s this?”

“You’ll have to wait for the next bus to come. Then you can pass on.” The voice sounded awfully, heartbreakingly familiar. 

“Then why haven’t you passed on yet, sir?”

He felt the air around them grow heavier. “I’m waiting for an old friend. One that I wish to see again more than anything.” There was a peculiar tone to his words, as if he was a child talking about a toy that they could only see through the shop windows, but was too expensive for them to ever buy.

Vincent knew he was slow at times, but he considered himself no fool. 

The voice, the figure, even the soft slouch…

_ “Jerome?” _

The man slowly turned, and Vincent saw himself. 

Or rather, a man he had once been. A man he last truly saw when he had looked in the mirror five years ago. 

He had been waiting for this moment for a long time: too long. His heart had twisted and shattered almost irreparably that day, when he had learned of the news that Jerome had committed suicide, with only a lock of hair, and tubes of blood and urine to remember him by.

He couldn’t even publicly grieve for the man that was Jerome Eugene Morrow, because he would have to be mourning himself. Every night he spent on Earth, as he looked up into the swirl of stars, he remembered who brought him there, and the thought pained him each time.

But he was here. They both were, and they were with each other. 

Vincent couldn’t contain his pure rush of happiness. 

“Oh- “Jerome was pulled into a warm, sandy hug. 

“Jerome! I never thought….you’d be here…” He could hardly contain his excitement at seeing Jerome again, and the other reciprocated, holding Vincent tightly. 

“You shouldn’t be here. It’s not your time yet.” Jerome’s eyes were filled with a bittersweet happiness. “You were meant to find a pretty girl, and explore space, and live out your years, and when I finally saw you, you’d be all old and hunched over.”

Vincent shook his head. “I told you before…my heart is weak. I wouldn’t have survived up there long anyway. I just wanted to see space…I didn’t care if I survived that first journey. But I did, and I went on several more.”

Jerome pulled away and studied Vincent carefully. They still looked like each other, but Vincent had more lines on his face and a paler complexion. 

“How have my samples been serving you?” He half-joked, trying to lighten the mood; but Vincent’s eyes were full of tears and burning questions.

“Why…why did you do that?”

The glitter in the air was suddenly gone, replaced with a sadness. Jerome gave a low, dry chuckle. 

“All I lived for back then was to help you to achieve your dream. When you finally made it, there was no need for me to be there anymore.”

Vincent shook his head vehemently. “No, you’re wrong! Did you ever think about if other people needed you?” 

“Who? I told you, they threw me away when I paralysed myself.” 

Vincent drew a deep breath in, but his voice grew softer. “I needed you.”

It was Jerome’s turn to look up with the same sparkling eyes. There was a silence, filled only by a growing warmth between them. 

“That’s the first time anyone has ever told me that.” Jerome smiled: a full, rich, smile, unlike the fleeting and dry smirks he gave when he was still alive. 

Vincent held Jerome closer as if he still couldn’t believe he was really there. 

A low rumble approached.

“Look,” Vincent said. “The bus is coming.” 

“Yes.” Jerome smiled, with tears in his eyes. “Let’s get on it together.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! This is my second fic for the Gattaca series for a friend, and I really like this dynamic!


End file.
